THUS was made plain the anger of the gods;The world gave signs of war: Nature reversedIn monstrous tumult fraught with prodigiesHer laws, and prescient spake the coming guilt.How seemed it just to thee, Olympus' king,That suffering mortals at thy doom should knowBy dreadful omens massacres to come?Or did the primal parent of the worldWhen first the flames gave way and yielding leftMatter unformed to his subduing hand,And realms unbalanced, fix by stern decreeUnalterable laws to bind the whole(Himself, too, bound by law), so that for ayeAll Nature moves within its fated bounds?Or, is Chance sovereign over all, and weThe sport of Fortune and her turning wheel?Whate'er be truth, keep thou the future veiledFrom mortal vision, and amid their fearsMay men still hope.Thus known how great the woesThe world should suffer, from the truth divine,A solemn fast was called, the courts were closed,All men in private garb; no purple hemAdorned the togas of the chiefs of Rome;No plaints were uttered, and a voiceless griefLay deep in every bosom: as when deathKnocks at some door but enters not as yet,Before the mother calls the name aloudOr bids her grieving maidens beat the breast,While still she marks the glazing eye, and soothesThe stiffening limbs and gazes on the face,In dread, not sorrow yet, in wondering aweOf death approaching: and with mind distraughtClings to the dying in a last embrace.The matrons laid aside their wonted garb:Crowds filled the temples-on the unpitying stonesSome dashed their bosoms; others bathed with tearsThe statues of the gods; some tore their hairUpon the holy threshold, and with shrieksAnd vows unceasing called upon the namesOf those whom mortals supplicate. Nor allLay in the Thunderer's fane: at every shrineSome prayers were offered which refused would bringReproach on heaven. One whose livid armsWere dark with blows, whose cheeks with tears bedewed,Cried, 'Now, unhappy mothers, rend the lock,Nor keep your sorrows till the battle day:Now ye may weep: when either chieftain winsRejoice ye must.' Thus sorrow stirs itself.Meanwhile the men in seeking either campAnd marching onward in the path to war,Address the cruel gods in just complaint.Happy the youths who born in Punic daysOn Cannae's uplands or by Trebia's streamFought and were slain! What wretched lot is ours!No peace we ask for: let the nations rage;Rouse fiercest cities! may the world find armsTo wage a war with Rome: let Parthian hostsRush forth from Susa; Scythian Ister curb' No more the Massagete: unconquered Rhine' Let loose from furthest North her fair-haired tribes:' Elbe, pour thy Suevians forth! Let us be foes' Of all the peoples. May the Getan press' Here, and the Dacian there; Pompeius meet'The Eastern archers, Caesar in the West' Confront th' Iberian. Leave to Rome no hand' To raise against herself in civil strife.' Or, if Italia by the gods be doomed,' Let all the sky, fierce Parent, be dissolved'And falling on the earth in flaming bolts,' Their hands still bloodless, strike both leaders down,' With both their hosts! Why plunge in novel crime' To settle which of them shall rule in Rome?' Scarce were it worth the price of civil war' To hinder either.' Thus the patriot voiceStill found an utterance, soon to speak no more.Meantime, the aged fathers o'er their fatesIn anguish grieved, detesting life prolongedThat brought with it another civil war.
Iamque irae patuere deum, manifestaque belliSigna dedit mundus: legesque et foedera rerumPraescia monstrifero vertit natura tumultu,Indixitque nefas. Cur hanc tibi, rector Olympi,Sollicitis visum mortalibus addere curam,Noscant venturas ut dira per omina clades?Sive parens rerum cum primum informia regnaMateriemque rudem flamma cedente recepit,Finxit in aeternum caussas, qua cuncta coercet,Se quoque lege tenens, et saecula iussa ferentemFatorum immoto divisit limite mundum:Sive nihil positum est, sed Fors incerta vagatur,Fertque refertque vices, et habet mortalia casus:Sit subitum, quodcumque paras: sit caeca futuriMens hominum fati: liceat sperare timenti.Ergo ubi concipiunt, quantis sit cladibus orbiConstatura fides superum, ferale per urbemIustitium: latuit plebeio tectus amictuOmnis honos: nullos comitata est purpura fasces.Tunc questus tenuere suos, magnusque per omnesErrabat sine voce dolor. Sic funere primoAttonitae tacuere domus, cum corpora nondumConclamata iacent, nec mater crine solutoExigit ad saevos famularum brachia planctus:Sed cum membra premit fugiente rigentia vita,Vultusque exanimes, oculosque in morte natantes,Necdum est ille dolor, sed iam metus: incubat amens,Miraturque malum. Cultus matrona prioresDeposuit: moestaeque tenent delubra catervae.Hae lacrimis sparsere deos, hae pectora duroAdfixere solo, lacerasque in limine sacroAttonitae fudere comas, votisque vocariAdsuetas crebris feriunt ululatibus aures.Nec cunctae summi templo iacuere Tonantis:Divisere deos, et nullis defuit arisInvidiam factura parens: quarum una madentesScissa genas, planctu liventes atra lacertos,Nunc, ait, o miserae contundite pectora matres,Nunc laniate comas, neve hunc differte dolorem,Et summis servate malis: nunc flere potestas,Dum pendet fortuna ducum: cum vicerit alter,Gaudendum est. His se stimulis dolor ipse lacessit.Nec non bella viri diversaque castra petentesEffundunt iustas in numina saeva querelas:O miserae sortis, quod non in Punica natiTempora, Cannarum fuimus Trebiaeque iuventus.Non pacem petimus, superi: date gentibus iras:Nunc urbes excite feras: coniuret in armisMundus: Achaemeniis decurrant Medica SusisAgmina: Massageten Sythicus non adliget Ister:Fundat ab extremo flavos Aquilone SuevosAlbis, et indomitum Rheni caput: omnibus hostesReddite nos populis: civile avertite bellum.Hinc Dacus premat, inde Getes: occurrat IberisAlter, ad Eoas hic vertat signa pharetras:Nulla vacet tibi, Roma, manus. Vel perdere nomenSi placet Hesperium, superi, collapsus in ignemPlurimus ad terram per fulmina decidat aether.Saeve parens, utrasque simul partesque ducesque,Dum nondum meruere, feri. Tantone novorumProventu scelerum quaerunt, uter imperet Urbi?Vix tanti fuerat, civilia bella movere,Ut neuter. Tales pietas peritura querelasEgerit. At miseros angit sua cura parentes,Oderuntque gravis vivacia fata senectae,Servatosque iterum bellis civilibus annos.
And thus spake one, to justify his fears:' No other deeds the fates laid up in store' When Marius, victor over Teuton hosts,' Afric's high conqueror, cast out from Rome,'Lay hid in marshy ooze, at thy behest,' O Fortune! by the yielding soil concealed' And waving rushes; but ere long the chains' Of prison wore his weak and aged frame,' And lengthened squalor: thus he paid for crime' His punishment beforehand; doomed to die' Consul in triumph over wasted Rome.'Death oft refused him; and the very foe,' In act of slaughter, shuddered in the stroke' And dropped the weapon from his nerveless hand.' For through the prison gloom a flame of light' He saw; the deities of crime abhorred;' The Marius to come. A voice proclaimed' Mysterious, " Hold! the fates permit thee not' " That neck to sever. Many a death he owes' " To time's predestined laws ere his shall come;' " Cease from thy madness. If ye seek revenge' " For that he blotted out your Cimbrian tribes,' " Let this man live, live out his fated days."' Not as their darling did the gods protect' The man of blood, but for his ruthless hand' Fit to prepare that sacrifice of gore' Which fate demanded. By the sea's despite' Borne to our foes, Jugurtha's wasted realm' He saw, now conquered; there in squalid huts' Awhile he lay, and trod the hostile dust' Of Carthage, and his ruin matched with hers:' Each from the other's fate some solace drew,' And prostrate, pardoned heaven. On Libyan soil' Fresh fury gathering, next, when Fortune smiled'The prisons he threw wide and freed the slaves.' Forth rushed the murderous bands, their melted chains' Forged into weapons for his ruffian needs.' No charge he gave to mere recruits in guilt' Who brought not to the camp some proof of crime.' How dread that day when conquering Marius seized' The city's ramparts! with what fated speed' Death strode upon his victims! plebs alike' And nobles perished; far and near the sword' Struck at his pleasure, till the temple floors'Ran wet with slaughter and the crimson stream' Befouled with slippery gore the holy walls.' No age found pity: men of failing years,' Just tottering to the grave, were hurled to death;' From infants, in their being's earliest dawn,' The growing life was severed. For what crime?'Twas cause enough for death that they could die.' The fury grew: soon 'twas a sluggard's part' To seek the guilty: hundreds died to swell'The tale of victims. Shamed by empty hands,' The bloodstained conqueror snatched a reeking head' From neck unknown. One way of life remained,' To kiss with shuddering lips the red right hand.' Degenerate people! Had ye hearts of men,' Though ye were threatened by a thousand swords,' Far rather death than centuries of life' Bought at such price; much more that breathing space' Till Sulla comes again. But time would fail' In weeping for the deaths of all who fell.'Encircled by innumerable bands' Fell Baebius, his limbs asunder torn,' His vitals dragged abroad. Antonius too,' Prophet of ill, whose hoary head was placed,' Dripping with blood, upon the festal board.' There headless fell the Crassi; mangled frames'Neath Fimbria's falchion: and the prison cells' Were wet with tribunes' blood. Hard by the fane' Where dwells the goddess and the sacred fire,' Fell aged Scaevola, though that gory hand' Had spared him, but the feeble tide of blood' Still left the flame alive upon the hearth.' That selfsame year the seventh time restored' The Consul's rods; that year to Marius brought' The end of life, when he at Fortune's hands' All ills had suffered; all her goods enjoyed.' And what of those who at the Sacriport' And Colline gate were slain, then, when the rule' Of Earth and all her nations almost left' This city for another, and the chiefs' Who led the Samnite hoped that Rome might bleed' More than at Caudium's Forks she bled of old?' Then came great Sulla to avenge the dead,' And all the blood still left within her frame' Drew from the city; for the surgeon knife' Which shore the cancerous limbs cut in too deep,' And shed the life stream from still healthy veins.' True that the guilty fell, but not before' All else had perished. Hatred had free course' And anger reigned unbridled by the law.' The victor's voice spake once; but each man struck' Just as he wished or willed. The fatal steel' Urged by the servant laid the master low.' Sons dripped with gore of sires; and brothers fought' For the foul trophy of a father slain,' Or slew each other for the price of blood.' Men sought the tombs and, mingling with the dead,' Hoped for escape; the wild beasts' dens were full.' One strangled died; another from the height' Fell headlong down upon the unpitying earth,' And from the encrimsoned victor snatched his death:' One built his funeral pyre and oped his veins,' And scaled the furnace ere his blood was gone.' Borne through the trembling town the leaders' heads' Were piled in middle forum: hence men knew' Of murders else unpublished. Not on gates' Of Diomedes, tyrant king of Thrace,' Nor of Antaeus, Libya's giant brood,' Were hung such horrors; nor in Pisa's hall'Were seen and wept for when the suitors died.' Decay had touched the features of the slain' When round the mouldering heap, with trembling steps' The grief-struck parents sought and stole their dead.' I, too, the body of my brother slain' Thought to remove, my victim to the peace' Which Sulla made, and place his loved remains' On the forbidden pyre. The head I found,' But not the butchered corse.Why now renew' The tale of Catulus's shade appeased?' And those dread tortures which the living frame' Of Marius suffered at the tomb of him' Who haply wished them not? Pierced, mangled, torn-' Nor speech nor grasp was left: his every limb' Maimed, hacked and riven; yet the fatal blow' The murderers with savage purpose spared.''Twere scarce believed that one poor mortal frame' Such agonies could bear ere death should come.' Thus crushed beneath some ruin lie the dead;' Thus shapeless from the deep are borne the drowned.' Why spoil delight by mutilating thus,' The head of Marius? To please Sulla's heart' That mangled visage must be known to all.' Fortune, high goddess of Praeneste's fane,' Saw all her townsmen hurried to their deaths' In one fell instant. All the hope of Rome,' The flower of Latium, stained with blood the field' Where once the peaceful tribes their votes declared.' Famine and Sword, the raging sky and sea,' And Earth upheaved, have laid such numbers low:' But ne'er one man's revenge. Between the slain' And living victims there was space no more,' Death thus let slip, to deal the fatal blow.' Hardly when struck they fell; the severed head' Scarce toppled from the shoulders; but the slain' Blent in a weighty pile of massacre' Pressed out the life and helped the murderer's arm.' Secure from stain upon his lofty throne,' Unshuddering sat the author of the whole,' Nor feared that at his word such thousands fell.'At length the Tuscan flood received the dead' The first upon his waves; the last on those' That lay beneath them; vessels in their course' Were stayed, and while the lower current flowed' Yet to the sea, the upper stood on highDammed back by carnage. Through the streets meanwhile' In headlong torrents ran a tide of blood,' Which furrowing its path through town and field'Forced the slow river on. But now his banks' No longer held him, and the dead were thrown' Back on the fields above. With labour huge'At length he struggled to his goal and stretched' In crimson streak across the Tuscan Sea.' For deeds like these, shall Sulla now be styled' " Darling of Fortune," " Saviour of the State "?' For these, a tomb in middle field of Mars' Record his fame? Like horrors now return' For us to suffer; and the civil war' Thus shall be waged again and thus shall end.'Yet worse disasters may our fears suggest,' For now with greater carnage of mankind' The rival hosts in weightier battle meet.' To exiled Marius, the prize of war' Was Rome regained; triumphant Sulla knew' No greater joy than on his hated foes' To wreak his vengeance with unsparing sword.'But these more powerful rivals Fortune calls' To worse ambitions; nor would either chief'For such reward as Sulla's wage the war.'Thus, mindful of his youth, the aged manWept for the past, but feared the coming days.
Atque aliquis, magno quaerens exempla timori,Non alios, inquit, motus tunc fata parabant,Cum post Teutonicos victor Libycosque triumphosExsul limosa Marius caput abdidit ulva.Stagna udi texere soli laxaeque paludesDepositum, Fortuna, tuum: mox vincula ferriExedere senem, longusque in carcere paedor.Consul e eversa felix moriturus in UrbePoenas ante dabat scelerum. Mors ipsa refugitSaepe virum, frustraque hosti concessa potestasSanguinis invisi: primo qui caedis in ictuDiriguit, ferrumque manu torpente remisit.Viderat immensum tenebroso in carcere lumenTerribilesque deas scelerum, Mariumque futurum;Audieratque pavens: Fas haec contingere non estColla tibi: debet multas hic legibus aevi,Ante suam, mortes: vanum depone furorem.Si libet ulcisci deletae funera gentis,Hunc, Cimbri, servate senem. Non ille favoreNuminis, ingenti superum protectus ab ira,Vir ferus, et Romam cupienti perdere fatoSuffciens. Idem pelago delatus iniquoHostilem in terram, vacuisque mapalibus actus,Nuda triumphati iacuit per regna Iugurthae,Et Poenos pressit cineres. Solatia fatiCarthago Mariusque tulit: pariterue iacentesIgnovere deis. Libycas ibi colligit iras.Ut primum fortuna redit, servilia solvitAgmina: conflato saevas ergastula ferroExeruere manus. Nulli gestanda dabanturSigna ducis, nisi qui scelerum iam fecerat usum,Attuleratque in castra nefas. Pro fata! quis ille,Quis fuit ille dies, Marius quo moenia victorCorripuit! quantoque gradu mors saeva cucurrit!Nobilitas cum plebe perit: lateque vagaturEnsis, et a nullo revocatum est pectore ferrum.Stat cruor in templis: multaque rubentia caedeLubrica saxa madent. Nulli sua profuit aetas.Non senis extremum piguit vergentibus annisPraecipitasse diem: nec prima in limine vitaeInfantis miseri nascentia rumpere fata.Crimine quo parvi caedem potuere mereri?Sed satis est iam, posse mori. Trahit ipse furorisImpetus: et, visum lenti, quaesisse nocentem.In numerum pars magna perit: rapuitque cruentusVictor ab ignota vultus cervice recisos,Dum vacua pudet ire manu. Spes una salutis,Oscula pollutae fixisse trementia dextrae.Mille licet gladii mortis nova signa sequantur,Degener o populus, vix saecula longa decorumSic meruisse viris, nedum breve dedecus aevi,Et vitam, dum Sulla redit. Cui funera vulgiFlere vacet? Vix te sparsum per viscera, Baebi,Innumeras intercarpentis membra coronaeDiscerpsisse manus: aut te, praesage malorumAntoni, cuius laceris pendentia canisOra ferens miles festae rorantia mensaeImposuit. Truncos laceravit Fimbria Crassos.Saeva Tribunicio maduerunt robora tabo.Te quoque neglectum violatae, Scaevola, dextraeAnte ipsum penetrale deae semperque calentesMactavere focos: parvum sed fessa senectusSanguinis effudit iugulo, flammisque pepercit.Septimus haec sequitur, repetitis fascibus, annus:Ille fuit vitae Mario modus, omnia passo,Quae peior fortuna potest, atque omnibus uso,Quae melior: mensoque, homini quid fata pararent.Iam, quot apud Sacri cecidere cadavera portum,Aut Collina tulit stratas quot porta catervas,Tunc cum paene caput mundi rerumque potestasMutavit translata locum, Romanaque SamnisUltra Caudinas speravit vulnera Furcas!Sulla quoque immensis accessit cladibus ultor.Ille quod exiguum restabat sanguinis UrbiHausit: dumque nimis iam putria membra recidit,Excessit medicina modum, nimiumque secuta est,Qua morbi duxere, manus. Periere nocentes;Sed cum iam soli possent superesse nocentes.Tum data libertas odiis, resolutaque legumFrenis ira ruit. Non uni cuncta dabantur,Sed fecit sibi quisque nefas. Semel omnia victorIusserat. Infandum domini per viscera ferrumExegit famulus: nati maduere paternoSanguine. Certatum est, cui cervix caesa parentisCederet: in fratrum ceciderunt praemia fratres.Busta repleta fuga, permixtaque viva sepultisCorpora: nec populum latebrae cepere ferarum.Hic laqueo fauces elisaque guttura fregit:Hic, se praecipiti iaculatus pondere, duraDissiluit percussus humo; mortesque cruentoVictori rapuere suas: hic robora bustiExstruit ipse sui, necdum omni sanguine fusoDesilit in flammas, et, dum licet, occupat ignes.Colla ducum pilo trepidam gestata per Urbem,Et medio congesta foro. Cognoscitur illic,Quidquid ubique iacet scelerum. Non Thracia tantumVidit Bistonii stabulis pendere tyranni;Postibus Antaei Libye: nec Graecia moerensTot laceros artus Pisaea flevit in aula.Cum iam tabe fluunt, confusaque tempore multoAmisere notas, miserorum dextra parentumColligit, et pavido subducit cognita furto.Meque ipsum memini, caesi deformia fratrisOra rogo cupidum vetitisque imponere flammis,Omnia Sullanae lustrasse cadavera pacis,Perque omnes truncos, cum qua cervice recisumConveniat, quaesisse caput. Quid sanguine manesPlacatos Catuli referam? cum victima tristesInferias Marius forsan nolentibus umbrisPendit, inexpleto non fanda piacula busto:Cum laceros artus, aequataque vulnera membrisVidimus, et toto quamvis in corpore caesoNil animae letale datum, moremque nefandaeDirum saevitiae, pereuntis parcere morti.Avulsae cecidere manus, exsectaque linguaPalpitat, et muto vacuum ferit aera motu.Hic aures, alius spiramina naris aduncaeAmputat: ille cavis evolvit sedibus orbes,Ultimaque effundit spectatis lumina membris.Vix erit ulla fides, tam saevi criminis unumTot poenas cepisse caput. Sic mole ruinaeFracta sub ingenti miscentur pondere membra:Nec magis informes veniunt ad litora trunci,Qui medio periere freto. Quid perdere fructumIuvit, et, ut vilem, Marii confundere vultum?Ut scelus hoc Sullas caedesque ostensa placeret,Agnoscendus erat. Vidit Fortuna colonosPraenestina suos cunctos simul ense recisos,Unius populum pereuntem tempore mortis.Tunc flos Hesperiae, Latii iam sola iuventus,Concidit, et miserae maculavit ovilia Romae.Tot simul infesto iuvenes occumbere leto,Saepe fames, pelagique furor, subitaeque ruinae,Aut coeli terraeque lues, aut bellica cladesNumquam poena fuit. Densi vix agmina vulgiInter et exsangues, immissa morte, catervasVictores movere manus. Vix caede peractaProcumbunt, dubiaque labant cervice: sed illosMagna premit strages: peraguntque cadavera partemCaedis: viva graves elidunt corpora trunci.Intrepidus tanti sedit securus ab altoSpectator sceleris: miseri tot milia vulgiNon piguit iussisse mori. Congesta recepitOmnia Tyrrhenus Sullana cadavera gurges.In fluvium primi cecidere, in corpora summi.Praecipites haesere rates, et strage cruentaInterruptus aquis fluxit prior amnis in aequor.Ad molem stetit unda sequens, dum sanguinis altiVis sibi fecit iter, campumque effusa per omnem,Praecipitique ruens Tiberina ad flumina rivoHaerentes adiuvit aquas: nec iam alveus amnem,Nec retinent ripae, redditque cadavera campo.Tandem Tyrrhenas vix eluctatus in undasSanguine caeruleum torrenti dividit aequor.Hisne Salus rerum, Felix his Sulla vocari,His meruit tumulum medio sibi tollere Campo?Haec rursus patienda manent: hoc ordine belliIbitur: hic stabit civilibus exitus armis.Quamquam agitant graviora metus, multumque coiturHumani generis maiore in praelia damno,Exsulibus Mariis bellorum maxima mercesRoma recepta fuit: nec plus victoria SullaePraestitit, invisas penitus quam tollere partes.Hos alio, Fortuna, vocas, olimque potentesConcurrunt. Neuter civilia bella moveret,Contentus, quo Sulla fuit. Sic moesta senectusPraeteritique memor flebat, metuensque futuri.
Such terrors found in haughty Brutus' breastNo home. When others sat them down to fearHe did not so, but in the dewy nightWhen the great wain was turning round the poleHe sought his kinsman Cato's humble home.Him sleepless did he find, not for himselfFearing, but pondering the fates of Rome,And deep in public cares. And thus he spake:'O thou in whom that virtue, which of yoreTook flight from earth, now finds its only home,Outcast to all besides, but safe with thee:Vouchsafe thy counsel to my wavering soulAnd make my weakness strength. While Caesar some,Pompeius others, follow in the fight,Cato is Brutus' guide. Art thou for peace,Holding thy footsteps in a tottering worldUnshaken? Or wilt thou with the leaders' crimesAnd with the people's fury take thy part,And by thy presence purge the war of guilt?In impious battles men unsheath the sword;But each by cause impelled: the household crime;Laws feared in peace; want by the sword removed;And credit, in the ruin of a worldBlending its ruin. Drawn by hope of gain,And not by thirst for blood, they seek the camp.Shall Cato for war's sake make war alone?What profits it through all these wicked yearsThat thou hast lived untainted? This were allThy meed of virtue, that the wars which findGuilt in all else, shall make thee guilty too.' Ye gods, permit not that this fatal strifeShould stir those hands to action! When the cloudsOf flying javelins hiss upon the air,Let not a dart be thine; nor spent in vainSuch virtue! All the fury of the war' Shall launch itself on thee, for who, when faint' And wounded, would not rush upon thy sword,'Take thence his death, and make the murder thine?'Do thou live on thy peaceful life apart'As on their paths the stars unshaken roll.'The lower air that verges on the earth' Gives flame and fury to the levin bolt;' The deeps below the world engulph the winds' And tracts of flaming fire. By Jove's decree'Olympus rears his summit o'er the clouds:'In lowlier valleys storms and winds contend,' But peace eternal reigns upon the heights.'What joy for Caesar, if the tidings come'That such a citizen has joined the war?' Glad would he see thee e'en in Magnus' tents;'For Cato's conduct shall approve his own.'Pompeius, with the Consul in his ranks,' And half the Senate and the other chiefs,' Vexes my spirit; and should Cato too' Bend to a master's yoke, in all the world'The one man free is Caesar. But if thou' For freedom and thy country's laws alone'Be pleased to raise the sword, nor Magnus then' Nor Caesar shall in Brutus find a foe.' Not till the fight is fought shall Brutus strike,'Then strike the victor.'Brutus thus; but spakeCato from inmost breast these sacred words:'Chief in all wickedness is civil war,' Yet virtue in the paths marked out by fate'Treads on securely. Heaven's will be the crime'To have made even Cato guilty. Who has strength' To gaze unawed upon a toppling world?'When stars and sky fall headlong, and when earth'Slips from her base, who sits with folded hands?'Shall unknown nations, touched by western strife,' And monarchs born beneath another clime' Brave the dividing seas to join the war?' Shall Scythian tribes desert their distant north,' And Getae haste to view the fall of Rome,'And I look idly on? As some fond sire,' Reft of his sons, compelled by grief, himself' Marshals the long procession to the tomb,' Thrusts his own hand within the funeral flames,' Soothing his heart, and, as the lofty pyre'Rises on high, applies the kindled torch:' Nought, Rome, shall tear thee from me, till I hold' Thy form in death embraced; and Freedom's name,' Shade though it be, I'll follow to the grave.' Yea! let the cruel gods exact in full' Rome's expiation: of no drop of blood' The war be robbed. I would that, to the gods' Of heaven and hell devoted, this my life' Might satisfy their vengeance. Decius fell,' Crushed by the hostile ranks. When Cato falls' Let Rhine's fierce barbarous hordes and both the hosts'Thrust through my frame their darts! May I alone' Receive in death the wounds of all the war!'Thus may the people be redeemed, and thus' Rome for her guilt pay the atonement due.' Why should men die who wish to bear the yoke' And shrink not from the tyranny to come?'Strike me, and me alone, of laws and rights'In vain the guardian: this vicarious life' Shall give Hesperia peace and end her toils.' Who then will reign shall find no need for war.' You ask, Why follow Magnus? If he wins' He too will claim the Empire of the world.' Then let him, conquering with my service, learn' Not for himself to conquer.' Thus he spokeAnd stirred the blood that ran in Brutus' veinsMoving the youth to action in the war.
At non magnanimi percussit pectora BrutiTerror, et in tanta pavidi formidine motusPars populi lugentis erat: sed nocte sopora,Parrhasis obliquos Helice cum verteret axes,Atria cognati pulsat non ampla Catonis.Invenit insomni volventem publica curaFata virum casusque Urbis, cunctisque timentem,Securumque sui; farique his vocibus orsus:Omnibus expulsae terris olimque fugataeVirtutis iam sola fides, quam turbine nulloExcutiet fortuna tibi; tu mente labantemDirige me, dubium certo tu robore firma:Namque alii Magnum vel Caesaris arma sequantur:Dux Bruto Cato solus erit. Pacemne tueris,Inconcussa tenens dubio vestigia mundo?An placuit, ducibus scelerum populique furentisCladibus immixtum, civile absolvere bellum?Quemque suas rapiunt scelerata in proelia caussae:Hos polluta domus, legesque in pace timendae;Hos ferro fugienda fames, mundique ruinaePermiscenda fides. Nullum furor egit in arma;Castra petunt magna victi mercede: tibi uniPer se bella placent? Quid tot durasse per annosProfuit immunem corrupti moribus aevi?Hoc solum longae pretium virtutis habebis:Accipient alios, facient te bella nocentem.Ne tantum, o superi, liceat feralibus armis,Has etiam movisse manus: nec pila lacertisMissa tuis caeca telorum in nube ferantur:Nec tanta in casum virtus eat. Ingeret omnisSe belli fortuna tibi. Quis nolet in istoEnse mori, quamvis alieno vulnere labens,Et scelus esse tuum? Melius tranquilla sine armisOtia solus ages, sicut coelestia semperInconcussa suo volvuntur sidera lapsu.Fulminibus propior terrae succenditur aer,Imaque telluris ventos tractusque coruscosFlammarum accipiunt: nubes excedit OlympusLege deum. Minimas rerum discordia turbat:Pacem summa tenent. Quam laete Caesaris auresAccipient, tantum venisse in proelia civem!Nam praelata suis numquam diversa dolebitCastra ducis Magni. Nimium placet ipse, CatoniSi bellum civile placet. Pars magna senatusEt duce privato gesturus proelia consulSollicitant, proceresque alii: quibus adde CatonemSub iuga Pompeii, tote iam liber in orbeSolus Caesar erit. Quodsi pro legibus armaFerre iuvat patriis, libertatemque tueri:Nunc neque Pompeii Brutum nec Caesaris hostem,Post bellum victoris habes. Sic fatur. At illiArcano sacras reddit Cato pectore voces:Summum, Brute, nefas civilia bella fatemur:Sed quo fata trahunt, virtus secura sequetur.Crimen erit superis, et me fecisse nocentem.Sidera quis mundumque valet spectare cadentem,Expers ipse metus? quis, cum ruat arduus aether,Terra labet, mixto coeuntis pondere mundi,Compressas tenuisse manus Gentesne furoremHesperium ignotae Romanaque bella sequentur,Deductique fretis alio sub sidere reges;Otia solus agam? Procul hunc arcete furorem,O superi, motura Dahas ut clade Getasque,Securo me, Roma cadat. Ceu morte parentemNatorum orbatum, longum producere funusAd tumulum iubet ipse dolor: iuvat ignibus atrisInseruisse manus, constructoque aggere bustiIpsum atras tenuisse faces: non ante revellar,Exanimem quam te complectar, Roma, tuumqueNomen, libertas, et inanem prosequar umbram.Sic eat: immites Romana piacula diviPlena ferant: nullo fraudemus sanguine bellum.O utinam coelique deis erebique liceretHoc caput in cunctas damnatum exponere poenas!Devotum hostiles Decium pressere catervae:Me geminae figant acies, me barbara telisRheni turba petat: cunctis ego pervius hastisExcipiam medius totius vulnera belli.Hic redimat sanguis populos: hac caede luatur,Quidquid Romani meruerunt pendere mores.Ad iuga cur faciles populi, cur saeva volentesRegna pati pereunt? Me solum invadite ferro,Me frustra leges et inania iura tuentem:Hic dabit, hic pacem iugulus, finemque laborumGentibus Hesperiis: post me regnare volentiNon opus est bello. Quin publica signa ducemquePompeium sequimur? Nec, si fortuna favebit,Hunc quoque totius sibi ius promittere mundiNon bene compertum est. Ideo me milite vincat,Ne sibi se vicisse putet. Sic fatur, et acresIrarum movit stimulos, iuvenisque caloremExcitat in nimios belli civilis amores.
Soon as the sun dispelled the chilly night,The sounding doors flew wide, and from the tombOf dead Hortensius grieving Marcia came.First joined in wedlock to a greater manThree children did she bear to grace his home:Then Cato to Hortensius gave the dameTo be a fruitful mother of his sonsAnd join their houses in a closer tie.And now the last sad offices were doneShe came with hair dishevelled, beaten breast,And ashes on her brow, and features wornWith grief; thus only pleasing to the man.' When youth was in me and maternal power' I did thy bidding, Cato, and received' A second husband: now in years grown old' Ne'er to be parted I return to thee.' Renew our former pledges undefiled:' Give back the name of wife: upon my tomb' Let " Marcia, spouse to Cato," be engraved.' Nor let men question in the time to come,' Didst thou compel, or did I willing leave' My first espousals. Not in happy times,' Partner of joys, I come; but days of care' And labour shall be mine to share with thee.' Nor leave me here, but take me to the camp,' Thy fond companion: why should Magnus' wife' Be nearer, Cato, to the wars than thine?'Although the times were warlike and the fatesCalled to the fray, he lent a willing ear.Yet must they plight their faith in simple formOf law; their witnesses the gods alone.No festal wreath of flowers crowned the gateNor glittering fillet on each post entwined;No flaming torch was there, nor ivory steps,No couch with robes of broidered gold adorned;No comely matron placed upon her browThe bridal garland, or forbad the footTo touch the threshold stone; no saffron veilConcealed the timid blushes of the bride;No jewelled belt confined her flowing robeNor modest circle bound her neck; no scarfHung lightly on the snowy shoulder's edgeAround the naked arm. Just as she came,Wearing the garb of sorrow, while the woolCovered the purple border of her robe,Thus was she wedded. As she greets her sonsShe greets her husband. Nor, in Sabine useDid mournful Cato share the festal taunt:Nor friend nor foe was bidden: silent bothThey joined in marriage, yet content, unseenBy any save by Brutus. Sad and sternOn Cato's lineaments the marks of griefWere still unsoftened, and the hoary hairHung o'er his reverend visage; for since firstMen flew to arms, his locks were left unkemptTo stream upon his brow, and on his chinHis beard untended grew. 'Twas his aloneWho hated not, nor loved, for all mankindTo mourn alike. Nor did their former couchAgain receive them, for his lofty soulE'en lawful love resisted. 'Twas his ruleInflexible, to keep the middle pathMarked out and bounded; to observe the lawsOf natural right; and for his country's sakeTo risk his life, his all, as not for selfBrought into being, but for all the world:Such was his creed. To him a sumptuous feastWas hunger conquered, and the lowly hut,Which scarce kept out the winter, was a homeEqual to palaces: a robe of priceSuch hairy garments as were worn of old:The end of marriage, offspring. To the StateFather alike and husband, right and lawHe ever followed with unswerving step:No thought of selfish pleasure turned the scaleIn Cato's acts, or swayed his upright soul.Meanwhile Pompeius led his trembling hostTo fields Campanian, and held the wallsFirst founded by the chief of Trojan race.These chose he for the central seat of war,Some troops despatching who might meet the foeWhere shady Apennine lifts up the ridgeOf mid Italia; nearest to the skyUpsoaring, with the seas on either hand,The upper and the lower. Pisa's sandsBreaking the margin of the Tuscan deep,Here bound his mountains: there Ancona's towersLaved by Dalmatian waves. Rivers immense,In his recesses born, pass on their course,To either sea diverging. To the leftMetaurus and Crustumium's torrent fallAnd Sena's streams and Aufidus who burstsOn Adrian billows; and that mighty floodWhich, more than all the rivers of the earth,Sweeps down the soil and tears the woods awayAnd drains Hesperia's springs. In fabled loreHis banks were first by poplar shade enclosed:And when by Phaethon the waning dayWas drawn in path transverse, and all the heavenBlazed with his car aflame, and from the depthsOf inmost earth were rapt all other floods,Padus still rolled in pride of stream along.Nile were no larger, but that o'er the sandOf level Egypt he spreads out his waves;Nor Ister, if he sought the Scythian mainUnhelped upon his journey through the worldBy tributary waters not his own.But on the right hand Tiber has his source,Deep-flowing Rutuba, Vulturnus swift,And Sarnus breathing vapours of the nightRise there, and Liris with Vestinian waveStill gliding through Marica's shady grove,And Siler flowing through Salernian meads:And Macra's swift unnavigable streamNear Luna rests in Ocean. On the AlpsWhose spurs strike plainwards, and on fields of GaulThe cloudy heights of Apennine look downIn further distance: on his nearer slopesThe Sabine turns the ploughshare; Umbrian kineAnd Marsian fatten; with his pineclad rocksHe girds the tribes of Latium, nor leavesHesperia's soil until the waves that beatOn Scylla's cave compel. His southern spursExtend to Juno's temple, and of oldStretched further than Italia, till the mainO'erstepped his limits and the lands repelled.But, when the seas were joined, Pelorus claimedHis latest summits for Sicilia's isle.
Interea, Phoebo gelidas pellente tenebras,Pulsatae sonuere fores: quas sancta relictoHortensi moerens irrupit Marcia busto:Quondam virgo toris melioris iuncta mariti:Mox, ubi, connubii pretium mercesque, soluta estTertia iam soboles, alios fecunda penatesImpletura datur, geminas ex sanguine matrisPermixtura domos. Sed postquam condidit urnaSupremos cineres, miserando concita vultu,Effusas laniata comas, concussaque pectusVerberibus crebris, cineresque ingesta sepulcri,Non aliter placitura viro, sic moesta profatur:Dum sanguis inerat, dum vis materna, peregiIussa, Cato, et geminos excepi foeta maritos.Visceribus lassis, partuque exhausta, revertorIam nulli tradenda viro. Da foedera prisciIllibata tori: da tantum nomen inaneConnubii: liceat tumulo scripsisse, CATONISMARCIA; nec dubium longo quaeratur in aevo,Mutarim primas expulsa, an tradita, taedas.Non me laetorum comitem rebusque secundisAccipis: in curas venio partemque laborum.Da mihi castra sequi. Cur tuta in pace relinquar,Et sit civili propior Cornelia bello?Hae flexere virum voces, et, tempora quanquamSint aliena toris, iam fato in bella vocante,Foedera sola tamen, vanaque carentia pompaIura placent, sacrisque deos admittere testes.Festa coronato non pendent limine serta;Infulaque in geminos discurrit candida postes,Legitimaeque faces, gradibusque adclivis eburnisStat torus, et picto vestes discriminat auro:Turritaque premens frontem matrona coronaTranslata vetuit contingere limina planta.Non, timidum nuptae leviter tectura pudorem,Lutea demissos velarunt flammea vultus:Balteus haud fluxos gemmis adstrinxit amictus,Colla monile decens, humerisque haerentia primisSuppara nudatos cingunt angusta lacertos.Sic, ut erat, moesti servat lugubria cultus,Quoque modo natos, hoc est amplexa maritum.Obsita funerea celatur purpura lana;Non soliti lusere sales: nec more SabinoExcepit tristis convicia festa maritus.Pignora nulla domus, nulli coiere propinqui.Iunguntur taciti, contentique auspice Bruto.Ille nec horrificam sancto dimovit ab oreCaesariem, duroque admisit gaudia vultu. -Ut primum tolli feralia viderat arma,Intonsos rigidam in frontem descendere canosPassus erat, moestamque genis increscere barbam.Uni quippe vacat studiisque odiisque carenti,Humanum lugere genus. - Nec foedera prisciSunt tentata tori: iusto quoque robur amoriRestitit. Hi mores, haec duri immota CatonisSecta fuit: servare modum, finemque tenere,Naturamque sequi, patriaeque impendere vitam;Nec sibi, sed toti genitum se credere mundo.Huic epulae, vicisse famem: magnique penates,Submovisse hiemem tecto: pretiosaque vestis,Hirtam membra super Romani more QuiritisInduxisse togam: Venerisque huic maximus usus,Progenies; Urbi pater est, Urbique maritus:Iustitiae cultor, rigidi servator honesti:In commune bonus: nullosque Catonis in actusSubrepsit partemque tulit sibi nata voluptas.Interea trepido discedens agmine MagnusMoenia Dardanii tenuit Campana coloni.Haec placuit belli sedes, hinc summa moventiHostis in occursum sparsas extendere partes,Umbrosis mediam qua collibus ApenninusErigit Italiam, nullo qua vertice tellusAltius intumuit, propiusve accessit Olympo.Mons inter geminas medius se porrigit undasInferni superique maris: collesque coercentHinc Tyrrhena vado frangentes aequora Pisae,Illinc Dalmaticis obnoxia fluctibus Ancon.Fontibus hic vastis immensos concipit amnes,Fluminaque in gemini spargit divortia ponti.In laevum cecidere latus veloxque Metaurus,Crustumiumque rapax, et iunctus Sapis Isauro,Senaque, et Adriacas qui verberat Aufidus undas:Quoque magis nullum tellus se solvit in amnem,Eridanus fractas devolvit in aequora silvasHesperiamque exhaurit aquis. Hunc fabula primumPopulea fluvium ripas umbrasse corona:Cumque, diem pronum transverso limite ducens,Succendit Phaethon flagrantibus aethera loris,Gurgitibus raptis penitus tellure perusta,Hunc habuisse pares Phoebeis ignibus undas.Non minor hic Nilo, si non per plana iacentisAegypti Libycas Nilus stagnaret arenas.Nec minor hic Istro, nisi quod, dum permeat orbemIster, casuros in quaelibet aequora fontesAccipit, et Scythicas exit non solus in undas.Dexteriora petens montis declivia TibrimUnda facit, Rutubamque cavum. Delabitur indeVulturnusque celer, nocturnaeque editor auraeSarnus, et umbrosae Liris per regna MaricaeVestinis impulsus aquis, radensque SalerniCulta Siler, nullasque vado qui Macra moratusAlnos, vicinae percurrit in aequora Lunae.Longior educto qua surgit in aera dorso,Gallica rura videt, devexasque aspicit Alpes.Tunc Umbris Marsisque ferax, domitusque SabelleVomere, piniferis amplexus rupibus omnesIndigenas Latii populos, non deserit anteHesperiam, quam cum Scyllaeis clauditur undis,Extenditque suas in templa Lacinia rupes;Longior Italia, donec confinia pontusSolveret incumbens, terrasque repelleret aequor.At postquam gemino tellus elisa profundo est,Extremi colles Siculo cessere Peloro.